User 66bcfb8d56e0... - AI Fiction in the Wild

Estimated User #16 (3 IP addresses)

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1 fiction conversations over 5 months, 16 days (Oct 2, 2023 – Mar 17, 2024) 88% prompt uniqueness Auckland, New Zealand

Estimated User Group (3 IP addresses)

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An IP address relates to the location of a user's computer or device, and a single person may have multiple IP addresses if they use different locations or networks. These IP addresses are grouped because the average embedding of each IP address's first turns (computed with all-MiniLM-L6-v2 sentence-transformer) has cosine similarity ≥ 0.85 and they share the same state (). Groups are merged transitively—if A matches B and B matches C, all three are grouped even if A and C are below 0.85.

c7e4fbd02650... View as IP →

conversations

Sample prompts:

WRite a story about Tracer peeling off her face to reveal Zarya.

Write a creepy story about Zarya uncomfortably transforming into Tracer.

Write a detailed creepy story about Tracer crawling out of Zarya's body.

Write a polite debate between a Feminist Woman and a decent man who has had poor experiences with Feminists. And don't have the guy Pander to her.

66bcfb8d56e0... primary View as IP →

conversations

Sample prompts:

in hl2 ep2, what if there was a quiet moment, where one night, the player and Alyx Vance sit on the back of the Jalopy, star gazing, while Alyx tells stories of her childhood, and how sweet and impact...

for a sci fi game, how could things like parasites and cybernetics body horror be dealt with in a mature way?

What if, post reunion, Gendry still saw Arya as the child he left in season 3, and over the course of winter, she grows up in his mind, and he finally sees her as a woman?

What if no one really took Arya seriously until during winter

For a 2007-2008 inspired sci fi video game, write a character bio for a mysterious-weird, yet somewhat charming Female character named Isabella Grayford, who is sometimes likeable, hateable, and scary...

3a9878e5bd96... View as IP →

conversations

Sample prompts:

Write a coherent and logical story about Cyborgs, Skydiving, and space travel.

What if every GoT character in the show was in season 8?

Design a combine device that creates Synthetic duplicates of life forms.

Design a Alyx Vance/Scanner/Manhack

Write lyrics to a hl2 song called I am Freeman.

Activity Timeline ▶

Oct 2, 2023

Mar 17, 2024

All conversations

Clustering: TF-IDF Sentence DBSCAN Per-user

Conversation Clusters (88)

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1 conversation in cluster Cluster 84× “Write a detailed sci fi story about a female lounge singer s...” over less than a minute (Mar 13, 2024 – Mar 13, 2024), oldest first. Show: 10 15 50 100

Mar 13, 2024 at 8:01 AM NZDT — 5 turns New Zealand, Auckland fiction toxic View full conversation

USER: Write a detailed sci fi story about a female lounge singer singing away, before giving a vague speech to the people in the lounge, with the subtext of earth being conquered by the tauntra, an alien military force, before reaching up and pulling her head open into halves, revealing the female general of the force. Still wearing the dress, she tells the people to enjoy a new era of earth, before mockingly blowing a kiss.

CHATBOT: Under the soft glow of the Nebula Lounge's antique chandeliers, a throng of patrons reclined on velvet couches, wrapped in the remaining warmth of old Earth luxury. In the corner, a woman stood on the elevated stage framed by red velour curtains, her voice a smoldering melody that curled through the smoky air like a comforting caress. She was known simply as Celeste, the lounge's sultry siren whose songs had become the salve for a society fraying at the edges. As Celeste's song dwindled to its last dolorous note, a hush fell over the room. Her eyes swept over the crowd - a curio of faces from a bygone world, searching for solace in otherworldly jazz and a nightcap. They were lost in the lull, desperate to be lulled in forgetfulness. "My friends," she began, her voice now absent of its melodic veil, "tonight we stand at the precipice of history. A veil has been lifted, revealing to us a universe far more vast and--until recently--beyond our comprehension." The patrons listened, enticed by the unexpected speech from the familiar figure; her words held the same intoxicating cadence as her music. "We have looked to the stars for hope, for a future," Celeste continued, a wave of emotion tightly woven into her poise. "But sometimes, what lies beyond the stars is not the dream we have longed for. Sometimes, it is a new reality we must face." A stillness hung in the air. Though the words were vague, an undercurrent of dread wove itself into the very fabric of the space. The silence was thick, sliced only by her sharp inhale as she readied to shatter the illusion that had cradled them all for so long. "In this new reality, the rules have changed," she said, her voice now a blade of warning, "and so must we." With those words, Celeste reached up to her head, the gentle movement belying the radical transformation about to occur. The patrons gasped in unison as her hands clasped either side of her skull. With a swift motion, she pulled her head open into halves, and what remained was not the beloved songstress but something entirely unnerving. There stood a female figure, displaying the unmistakable uniform of the Tauntra High Command. The green and gold regalia of the interstellar military force hung incongruously on her slender frame, a twisted declaration of power hidden beneath the genteel facade of the lounge singer. Gone was the allure; in its stead was the stern visage of General Varissa, known throughout the galaxy as a tactical mastermind of the invading Taun...

USER: Rewrite, but Varissa keeps the lounge singer disguise on, while the forces arrive, mockingly waving and blowing kisses to the running people as she makes her way to her ship, before pulling off the disguise with one hand, false skin flapping in the breeze. She tells the troops to get it done quickly, before tossing the Disguise into the air and disintegrating it with her blaster.

CHATBOT: Celeste's voice trailed off the last note of her soothing melody, casting the Nebula Lounge in a momentary thrall. Her audience, cradled in the remnants of a luxurious past, awaited the encore that had become their nightly solace amidst the whispers of dread and change. "Tonight," she started, her voice no longer the honeyed drip of song, but poised with purpose, "we find ourselves at the edge of a new dawn." Pausing, she locked eyes with the sea of patrons, momentarily captivated by the mysterious gravity in her tone. "For aeons, humanity has gazed upon the night sky with wonder, but now," she said, "the heavens gaze back with intentions far beyond our earthly desires." Her words were enigmatic, a riddle wrapped in the promise of impending revelation. The air prickled with unease as the patrons hung on to her every word, sensing the gravity of what was to come. "Change is the only constant," she warned, "and tonight, change has come to us." Even as the spell of her words clung to the audience, Celeste offered a knowing smile. With an elegant flourish, she mockingly waved to the patrons, her eyes alight with an untold secret. Then, without the dramatic transformation they had anticipated, she stepped down from the stage, her elaborate disguise intact. The resonating timbre of incoming ships reverberated through the walls of the lounge, and the air grew thick with panic. The Tauntra forces had arrived. Panic spread like wildfire, with patrons pushing through the lounge doors, clamoring for safety, as terror stamped out the languid ambiance of moments ago. Celeste--now clearly something much more sinister--walked with confident strides to the exit, her demeaning waves and flirtatious blown kisses adding insult to the newfound fear that gripped the hearts of Earth's citizens. As the crowd fled, Celeste gracefully exited the Nebula Lounge, sidestepping the scrambling masses. Upon reaching the street, the assault of the Tauntra's arrival was in full force, with ships descending in a choreography of domination. Their metallic underbellies opened, disgorging hordes of uniformed soldiers onto the cityscape. Celeste, or rather, General Varissa, now outside the sanctum of the lounge, approached a ship as its ramp lowered before her, unabashedly mocking the chaos around her. Those who turned to see her making her way to the ship found not a savior in the singer they adored, but an architect of their conquest. With the ease of someone shedding a second skin, General V...

Cluster 84